


Nikolayeskv

by Fireefloweer



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Blood and Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Crying, Falling In Love, Historical References, Love Confessions, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Romantic Angst, Tragic Romance, True Love, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:02:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21798046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fireefloweer/pseuds/Fireefloweer
Summary: They had fallen in love before, almost a century ago. Perhaps they don't remember but at that time one of them was a soldier and the other one was a shy man...Nikolayevsk’s village is raw and cold, just as one would expect to be in a corner of frozen Siberia. Victor Nikiforov hates the place, just as he hates being a Russian soldier and just thinks he’s locked in a cage in mind and soul. He lives in an era where darkness, war, and blood are sacred words for men, he lives in an era where death and fear are daily bread... Finally, when he sees that boy’s smile... he feels loved
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	Nikolayeskv

**Author's Note:**

> Please listen to the song "My body is a cage" by Peter Gabriel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They had fallen in love before, almost a century ago. Perhaps they don't remember but at that time one of them was a soldier and the other one was a shy man...
> 
> Nikolayevsk’s village is raw and cold, just as one would expect to be in a corner of frozen Siberia. Victor Nikiforov hates the place, just as he hates being a Russian soldier and just thinks he’s locked in a cage in mind and soul. He lives in an era where darkness, war, and blood are sacred words for men, he lives in an era where death and fear are daily bread... Finally, when he sees that boy’s smile... he feels loved

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please listen to the song "My body is a cage" by Peter Gabriel <3

**March 1918**

The ground is unstable because of the snow and the boy runs desperately so they don’t kill him. He sobs when his legs start to lose strength —“Maybe for the cold”, thinks Victor— and the boy looks everywhere, full of panic.

Youth makes you commit stupid actions, impulsive actions that end up sentencing you to a life completely different from the one that destiny had entrusted to you. This child is an example. His ignorance and haughtiness led him to the life of a soldier, rejecting the study and indulging in the smell of fresh blood and corpses. Unfortunately, not everyone can stand this life, and they end up like this: deserting and run away like cowards little bunnies. It’s something unforgivable for the White Army.

Victor Nikiforov sees the blonde head move away, increasingly slowed by the impending fatigue caused by frozen Siberia. He clenches his jaw and feels the looks of his companions on his back, waiting.

Víctor Nikiforov also is a man coward because his hands are shaking as he raises the Remington M91 to aim for the blonde head and hesitates. He doesn’t want to kill this boy, but he has to do it.

The shot echoes and is lost in the vast sordid terrain. The body falls and in the distance, you can see the red spot mingling with the snow.

‘One of many’, thinks Victor.

He puts down the gun and the other soldiers continue on their way to the village of Nikolayeskv. He hears the curses of some for the delay caused by that frightened child; others just keep silence and Victor only looks at the figure lying far away to turn his eyes on those men stinking of blood, sweat, piss, and corpse.

It is distressing to think that this crowd used to be an intimidating army, destined for the protection of the Tsar, for the preservation of order… Now it’s a bunch of merciless beasts.

Victor never wanted to belong to this army but had no choice… He had to pay for his sin. The sin of having desired a man in body and soul. His family wanted to kill him but Yakov offered him a way to escape: to join the White Army. And that’s when Victor found out he was an idiot, pathetic, cowardly man.

Now he has become another hellish beast, one that continues to crave men and kills children for being as cowardly as he is.

“We’re here” he hears how the commander stops his horse to point out to the distance the stain that pretends to be the coastal town “there is Nikolayeskv”.

* * *

Nikiforov thinks that he’s locked in a cage in body and soul. He can’t say things that he thinks; he can’t say that this country is nothing but a nest of demons devouring each other, that there is no nation, glory or peace. He can’t say that he has gone into hiding to mourn the death of that child; he can’t say that every day, survival is a cursed task.

All he can say is ‘thank you’ while accepting the food he has been given in this sordid village.

Nikolayeskv barely subsists. Strangely, such a Russian territory is inhabited by Japanese people whose houses are lost in the snow and the icy fog. Victor envies the ignorance of the inhabitants; they don’t know that there was a Civil War, that the Tsarist Empire fell and that a Red Army is hunting everyone who stands in the way of their communist ideas. 

Victor is sitting, he is eating stale bread and he frowns at the realization that sleet seeps into his boot. He has to get new ones.

Victor knows perfectly well that a wet foot is equivalent to infections, that’s what happened to Yakov… Trench foot, they call it. He sighs and gets up. It is not easy to integrate with the men of this place, very few speak Russian and the language they speak is so strange that it causes fear. He doesn’t know where to go, he has been in this town for seven hours and barely he knows the way from headquarters to the warehouses. Victor decides to go there first.

He frowns more as the moisture seeps into his skin, the cold runs through his body and moves faster to see if anyone can give him boots. The winery is just any house; the difference is that there are ammunition, food and other artifacts that can be useful. In the distance, he sees two guys talking to each other, stops for a second when he realizes that one of them has hit the smaller one on the head, followed by another punch in the face. When the soldier arrives, the violent man is gone and the smaller one is rubbing his cheek.

When the boy looks him, he backs away, distrustful. Victor realizes that is Japanese, the little one with slating eyes and round face. There is a bruise on his cheek and his coat has patches everywhere with the smell of sweat and moisture.

Victor doesn’t know why, but he looks him tenderly.

The boy seems to be uncomfortable because he starts speaking in that strange language... The soldier raises his hands, surrendering —something unacceptable to the Russians— while pointing at his feet with his indices.

“Boots”, he raises one foot, showing the crack in the heel. The boy sees for one second the boot and blink, he is more confused than before. Victor looks to the sides for help, after a few seconds, sighs resigned and lowers his foot. “Does it hurt?” asks as he has taken out a piece of cloth to give it to him and to clean the blood that is in his lips.

The Japanese boy looks the piece of cloth and takes it, slowly, almost fearful. Victor can’t help smile, then he tries to touch the boy’s cheek, ignoring for a second that those same hands pulled the trigger to take the life of another boy.

The man Japanese frowns and backs away one step, then two steps, three and finally, he runs.

Nikiforov wonders that night —as he tries to steal his partner’s boots— if that boy with the lovely face could heal his wounded cheek. Did the pain be relieved? What has he done to have suffered such a blow? Why hold on to the memory of that man? Look at his hands and sighs.

There’s no doubt, Victor Nikiforov is a man coward, idiot, and hypocrite.

The second time he sees the Japanese boy is four days later. Victor’s face is swollen because of the fight he had with his partner when he discovered the boots were stolen. Now he has nothing, the other soldier took both pairs as revenge and now Victor’s feet are wrapped in pieces of coat and leather that he found over there. He sits on a frozen log and pain band-aid from the pangs on the bottom of his feet. His gaze wanders through the snowy streets and tenses his jaw as he realizes the distance to reach the barracks. Thanks to his mistake he’s downgraded to errand boy, it’s payback. It seems delightful to see him suffer from his lack of shoes and be ordered to leave errands in the various barracks in the village.

He hears a few hasty footsteps and turns his face, surprised to see him again. The Japanese man frowns when looks those bruises en Victor’s face. He mumbles something —Victor doesn’t know what the fuck he says— and bows strangely as he hands him the piece of tissue that Nikiforov gave him a few days ago. Hardly the soldier going to accept it when he hears the boy’s gasp, the Japanese boy looks up, now alarmed and again exclaiming strange words as he points at the Russian’s feet. Victor wants to smile at such a reaction; however, he frowns when the Japanese boy takes off his shoes and without asking, he takes the frozen wraps off Victor’s feet. The boots are made to measure, just a glance to know that those boots were extremely large for the Asian boy, how could he walk with them?

"Enough," says the soldier, distressed and trying to take off his boots when he sees the man’s tiny feet change color due to the ice, however, the Japanese boy stops him. The boy takes the frozen wraps and puts them on. Before Victor can say another word, the other man runs off, getting lost in the snow-covered streets.

That night, Nikiforov hugs the boots. One part of him says it is to protect them from the other soldiers, the other is more sincere: he wants to treasure them. He can still remember the face of that adorable boy when he discovered his feet full of sores, worrying for no reason about him, about a stranger, about a Russian soldier. Victor caresses with his grimy fingernail the leather of the boot, he wonders if this Japanese boy has other shoes, he wishes that yes.

‘This is dangerous’, he thinks. He knows these sensations; sensations are already forgotten by war and blood. A man can't desire another man. A man can't love another man. Victor gasps at such a thought. He looks at the old boots, remembers the boy’s face the worry on his eyes and the soldier sighs.

The third time is when Victor buys some supplies in the warehouse. It’s surprising to find him there. Usually, it is Nishigory who attends him —a Japanese man who barely speaks Russian. The boy blushes when looks the soldier, Victor doesn’t know whether to get excited at such a blush. He decides to rejoice and shows a soft smile, the other man lowers his gaze and keeps accommodating empty bottles.

“Thank you”, the soldier says. The boy raises his gaze and squints his eyes, even more, looking for the meaning of that strange word. “Thank you”, Victor says again, he points his boots. The Japanese man lifts his shoulders and hides his neck. The adorable blush moves to his ears and Victor just wants to keep looking at that face until dawn. He won’t lie: he hasn’t stopped thinking about this boy and watching him make such expressions drives him crazy.

He no longer denies it: he wants that man. He has dreamed of that man and wants to love that man.

The boy babbles and turns his body to keep working. Victor looks carefully and the man´s hands tremble slightly, he hears the young man tries to warm with his breath and without a second thought he gives you his gloves.

They’re leather gloves, very big but useful for keeping warm. The boy’s reaction is charming: he blushes, looks at the gloves, looks at Victor, slowly pulls a finger from that glove, looks at Victor again, looks at the entrance as if someone is spying on them and finally accepts them.

“Thank you for the boots” Victor smiles. “These gloves are not new but they will help you. They are not very important” he lies.

The truth is that those gloves were special: one of Yakov’s gifts but it doesn’t matter much now, not when that adorable Japanese boy looks at him gratefully. Silence reigns for a few seconds and the soldier is nervous. The language barrier is a big problem; his superior has told him that if Nishigori is not there he should not stay there. Without knowing how to continue, Victor smiles as a farewell and heads to the door, a little hope that he might see him again later.

“Yuuri”.

Víctor flips quickly at the sound. He swallows hard when the boy has pointed out himself; the gloves are big in his small hands. “Yuuri” he repeats, more nervous than before. There are is a sigh from Nikiforov.

Yuuri. That's his name: Yuuri.

“Victor” he retorts very excited and points to himself. Yuuri’s smile is radiant, small but so beautiful.

This smile is enough for Victor to forget that he is a soldier and him without being able to help him, he sighs, completely happy.

“Victor,” Yuuri says and Nikiforov nods.

“Yes”, Victor moves his index finger to his chest, “Yuuri” points out him. The other man nods, confident and reveals a lovely smile. Nikiforov promises without realizing that he would kill to keep that smile.

* * *

**March 1919**

He trembles when he feels one's lips kissing his jaw. He smiles and strains his body to cling to the two words he has discovered with Japanese man, love and life. Words he had long forgotten because of blood and death.

He is lost to sensations, he sinks into the flesh and he kisses every inch of skin. They devour each other, they shatter and they come together again.

He doesn’t know where he begins or where he ends, he doesn’t know who gives or who receives, it doesn’t matter. He holds him, he bites him, he praises him, he licks him, he kisses him, and he loves him until his legs tremble, until every drop if his being is gone, until every piece of him screams that is his. And then… then comes the temperance, the tingling of orgasm runs all over his body and shudders. He smiles, tired and weak. The other man gasps for air; both look at each other and snort incredulously. It has been a year, yes, a year of being together and loving each other in secret.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Yuuri asks. Victor hugs the other man with sweetness.

“I’ll stay here today and tomorrow”, he promises and smiles when he sees Yuuri’s eyes. The soldier was diligent to learn Japanese as was Yuuri to learn Russian. For both of them, listening to their loved ones speaking their language turns out to be very stimulating at night. Victor towards and kisses Yuuri’s forehead, his mate hugs him and they startle for the cold and the fluids sticky of their bodies.

Victor loves to Yuuri, he didn’t mind getting blood on his hands to disappeared one or two soldiers that have discovered their relationship. Yuuri knows it and doesn’t reject it. They understand that sacrifices are required to love. They are selfish and don’t repent.

They are in their hiding place. It’s a small room hidden in the cellar; the entrance is very well concealed by the root of the walls and the floor. With parsimony, Yuuri traces abstract patterns on the skin of his mate and Victor sighs, in love.

“Nishigori was good to leave me this place”, murmurs Yuuri and the soldier nods. The man died last winter because of the fever. He wanted to see his family again in the afterlife; he left all his earthly worries and in an act of good faith gave Yuuri the winery. Meetings with Victor have been safety ever since.

“Yuuri”, Victor mumbles and Yuuri responds with a gentle hum, “Yuuri”, he says again, he excited to realize that thanks to this man had something that can resemble a life. Victor gets lost in phonemes, reveling when the boy’s hair is lifted by the unexpected chill. Victor is naive so he imagines a life without war or danger. He imagines a warm house, a softer bed and perhaps a dog. He yawns and carefully intertwines his fingers with those of the Japanese man. Fingers wide and crooked from the cold and weapons joined to long, thin fingers with calluses by the weight of loading bottles and provisions. “Yuu-

“I love you Victor” The soldier freezes at such a statement. Neither of them has uttered such words by the weight and sentence contained therein. Without hesitation it wraps its arms in the male body, protecting it from the temperature that more and more descends. “Could you save me from the cold, always?”

Nikiforov is breathless and blinks many times, perhaps to remove the tears from his eyes. “It sounds like a marriage proposal”. He answers, excited. Yuuri raises his shoulders, fixing his eyes on the united hands.

“It is”.

Victor just slowly kisses the other man’s collarbone and Yuuri smiles.

* * *

**March 1920**

They are little bunnies cowards.

They run. Victor looks everywhere, full of panic because he doesn’t have his Remington M91. He had to leave it when he knew he couldn’t carry the extra weight of food and guide Yuuri on the grounds of Siberia. There’s no option. Victor squeezes the other man’s hand and his teeth chatter without knowing if it’s because he’s cold, adrenaline or fear. He hears his love, Yuuri is begging to rest but it’s impossible. It’s only a matter of minutes —maybe seconds— to be found and murdered.

This year was a shitty year.

It all began in January; Yakov Tryapitsyn came to Nikolayeskv leading the Red Army. The bloodthirsty beasts didn’t want to cause a ruckus in such a wretched village and proposed a truce: as long as the Japanese didn’t interfere in the affairs of Tryapitsyn, they would have mercy.

It was corruption. They looted food, weapons alcohol... Vital resources for the Japanese and then the extermination continued. Every White Army soldier was killed. They were unable to resist the power of the Red Army. They were sentenced to death and the Japanese respected the truce, except Yuuri.

When the first White soldier died, Yuuri locked Victor in that rotten room in the cellar. No one knew where Nikiforov was, many believed that he died but the truth he was hiding for a month in a room with his loved one. They were both selfish and cowardly. Unfortunately, they thought they could live like this.

The Japanese planned an ambush against Tryapitsyn, it was a stupid plan. When the war began the lovers barely had time to take the only thing left in the cellar and flee, where? They had no idea.

Maybe, just maybe if they got to a cave that used to be used to guard White Army weapons, they’d be safe. Victor wants to hold on to that. He keeps squeezing Yuuri’s hand and pulling it, the other man advances, clumsy and disoriented.

While they climb the slope, they see pieces of black cloth, is a banner? The Russian’s eyes are tearing.

“There is, Yuuri!” He smiles at him. The look the man gives him is enough to make him regain his strength. “We’ll stay here”. He says. Victor walks faster with the hope in his heart. His body stands up to feel a grip back, Yuuri is smiling now, hopeful. Nikiforov sometimes thinks that at times like this is where he can be in balance: life and love drive away death and fear. There is a point where he does not fear and dares to be brave.

“And then we’ll leave?

“Anywhere”. Victor says, excited. He can see the White army’s banners. “Just stay close to me, okay?

“And never let you go” Yuuri kisses his hand with devotion. Dry lips clash with cold skin but smile. Victor looks him glorious and nods. When he turns around, his happiness ends.

There are people in that place, four... Five? Six?... Seven? The hands of lovers tremble when they see the soldiers of the Red Army.

How stupid it was! It was obvious that the soldiers of Tryapitsyn would look for any hiding place of the enemy. How could he be such an idiot to believe that they would have an opportunity? When the men look at him, Victor knows it’s all over. He instantly places Yuuri behind him, in an act of bravery. Pray to an already forgotten God. _Please protect Yuuri and take me instead_.

The Coat of the White Government of Kolchak in his coat betrays him. He hardly hits two soldiers and feels his fingers break from the cold in his limbs; he hears Yuuri’s screams, turns around and sees the beasts beat him. Yuuri does what he can, ut it’s two against seven.

He pounces on Yuuri and tries to cover him with his body to protect him, the blows with weapons and the kicks break his ribs and vomit blood, he hears the screams of his beloved in the distance, followed by a sharp hum in his ear. He blinks, disoriented. His body was taken away from Yuuri, the other soldiers punch him.

He hears cruel insults. They point out his love as an aberration of nature that he deserves to die. He tries to say ‘Kill me, but don’t punish Yuuri’ but the words get stuck in the throat along with the bile.

They leave him lying in the snow. Victor realizes that the whiteness of it is dyed pink because of its blood. All the damage is done to Nikiforov, five men are in charge of beating him. Will they kill him like this? His already disfigured face turns slightly towards Yuuri, the other man crawls in the snow with a broken nose, trying to get closer, his looks meet and the hatred appears in the chestnut pupils.

Yuuri never ceases to surprise him.

With the strength he has left, the Japanese man stands up and hits one of the men with such eagerness that he succeeds in snatching a hunting knife and killing him. Victor tries to move, he tries, he wants to tell him, no, to run away, not to fight for him. _God, protect him._

Before he can advance to attack the second soldier, a Remington M91 bullet goes through his chest. The boy’s lips are stained with blood and he falls to his knees. There is no word for Victor, no sigh, any look... Yuuri is already dead when his body hits the snow.

There’s a high-pitched scream, similar to that of a dying animal, shattered. The soldiers look at each other, alarmed at such a sound, when they look down they find a man in blood, crawling, emanating that harrowing howl. Try to reach Yuuri, try and it’s so far away.

The men watch, curious. They allow themselves to have fun, they see how Victor crawls, shouting, crying, claiming the name of Yuuri. His fingers are stuck in the snow and he pulls it to propel himself, his body trembles with sobs, leaves a crimson trace...

God hates him. He has always hated him, hasn’t he? He asked for only one thing, one thing, and God spat in his face.

Is it his punishment for killing that child deserter years ago? Why couldn’t he do anything to stop it?

Does he hate him to be a coward? Does he hate him for loving a man? His fingers barely graze the hand of the body when the others decide that it is enough of games and pull him off his feet. Victor no longer fights, he just screams. They drag him downhill, taking him further and further away from Yuuri’s body.

“NO! No! Leave me there! Kill me there!” he chokes on snow because of his screams, it tastes like iron. He gropes, stretching every muscle of his arms to reach Yuuri and cannot. He promised, he promised... He promised he would never go, he should be with him. “Please, please... YUURI!”

They beat him until he loses consciousness.

Everything is paid for. Nothing is free in this life. Sometimes the human being has the bad habit of taking all that is offered to him and forgetting the payment. Victor learned that true when he murdered the first man in the Army, having the power to sacrifice part of your humanity... Yuuri gave him everything without asking for anything... Yuuri, Yuuri, where is Yuuri? The Russian opens his eyes and tears at the memory, begins to cry and searches desperately. What stands before him are ruins, ruins of a village called Nikolayevsk. There are corpses and blood everywhere.

Victor just wants to come back, Yuuri will be cold, promised to keep him out of the cold always, always... He can’t break his marriage vows.

They shake him. Disoriented, he identifies the man who took away his love and his life. He curses him but his strength is so null that he only sobs. They drag him out in front of another handful of men, soldiers of the White Army who were also hidden by the Japanese. He does not recognize faces, trembles and looks for Yuuri among them.

He pays no attention, ignores how each soldier is riddled with bullets; when the ammunition runs out, they start using knives, pieces of wood, glass... Victor’s colleagues die in such a grotesque way and are then thrown into the Amur River.

Victor loses some sanity while listening to the machine fire the shells at his former war buddies. He does not even hear the screams, nor does he want to listen to them; his attention is focused on examining each other’s faces, hoping they will be Yuuri. He doesn’t want to accept that Yuuri is dead; he doesn’t accept that beautiful Yuuri’s body is in the snow, perhaps already being devoured by the animals of that place. He clings to other fantasies; will he be in that putrid room in the cellar? Will he have prepared dinner? Will he be waiting for him?

“Yuuri” he whispers with tears in his eyes, trembling; his eyes wander again and again on the faces of the captives, looking for his husband’s adorable face. Yes, husband, because they were married, right? Even if a man was not a witness, even if a god did not bless their union... They were husbands, that night, that proposal was their wedding, wasn’t it? “Yuuri...”His hands are crimson. He sees his red nails and quickly denies, looking up to ignore that color. “No. No red. Yuuri likes blue. Yuuri likes the sky and the color of my eyes. It’s blue. Blue, blue...”

Soldiers of the Red Army place him in front of the bayonet when he hears the shooting, he feels no pain. Pieces of his life before and after he meets his beloved torment him as his body is dragged to the river, he is prodded without delicacy, not even Victor feels pain when his left-hand hits one of the rocks, He doesn’t even realize that his fingers are broken... It only sinks and memories arrive tears, blood, resentment, broken boots, cold feet, big gloves, smiles, first words, stolen kisses, passionate kisses, laughter, groans, orgasms, promises...

God must hate him very much to keep him alive in spite of all this suffering. His heartbeat rumbles in his eardrums, slower, slower and slower... The bodies of the other soldiers float around, Victor ignores them. Yuuri once mentioned the gods of Japan... Will there be one be able to hear his request? Will there be one where he can pity themself? Yuuri never gave up hope, it was love, and it was life... He said there was always someone merciful listening, that someone could always free them from their cage...

 _If you are truly merciful, let me be happy with him in another life_. There is no pain, only tiredness. His eyes are clouded and the heartbeat is more leisurely. He remembers the lovely face of Yuuri, the one when his cheek was red from the blow, his face worried when he saw his feet, a beautiful face with bright eyes when he kissed him for the first time, the moan of his lips, the words of love... And there is an image that comes, almost nebulous as if it were another life: blades on ice, a beautiful church, colored lights, celestial chants, medals, and gold rings.

Will it be the vision of another life? A kinder life where he can love Yuuri?

Maybe there is a God.

 _Yuuri, Yuuri_ , he thinks while blood mixes with water and his breathing stops. The Russian’s body sinks and small bubbles come out of his mouth, followed by the last beating of his heart, _what should I call you next time?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I write in English. I apologize if you find any mistakes. I wanted to write this to improve my English and because I had this idea a long time ago :D  
> I hope to publish the next chapter next week<3 Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I write in English. I apologize if you find any mistakes. I wanted to write this to improve my English and because I had this idea a long time ago :D  
> I hope to publish the next chapter next week, thank you! <3


End file.
